From A to B
by Spider Spirit
Summary: Daryl always liked the idea of going on a adventure, it's why he became a hired gun after all. There's always an adventure around the corner. So when there's news of a machine that can send you into any fictional world you wanted he was exited, then he was hired to destroy it. What does he do? He blows himself up inside it. He's such a genius.


Harry James Potter, a character that nearly everyone knew about, was a half-blood wizard who saved the magic world. Harry Potter, the book series that everyone had at least heard of, was an amazingly well written story of adventure and magic.

Daryl was thrilled about doing a job for the first time in years. He was just above average height with blonde hair peppered with gray, hazel brown eyes, and tanned skin. Almost fifty, he was actually quite fit. He was moving through hallways of a government building as if he'd done it all his life, even though it was the first time he's ever been there. A duffle bag at his hip, he made his way towards a very specific room.

His job was rather simple, destroy the machine inside and get the blueprints to the client. Nothing he hasn't done before, but this time was going to be different. The client wasn't exactly smart, paid upfront completely in _cash_ , and he wasn't going to get the blueprints. Oh, Daryl was going to do the first part of the job – just with him inside the machine as he did so.

Oh, it was, truly, a masterpiece of technology. A leap straight from fiction to reality – the ability to go into fictional works.

Like, for instance, Harry Potter.

 _ **~LINEBREAK~**_

Daryl had a very strange thought process for a man his age. After all, not everyone believed that being a hired gun was a respectful profession or would decide so easily that blowing ones' self up was the best idea since sliced bread.

So, yeah, Daryl's thought process was strange.

He set up the bombs very nicely and very neatly – this was to be his tomb after all, it had to be perfect – and put all of the blueprints about the machine and a few others in his duffle bag. His favorite one to be precise, it was a lovely rust red color.

He stepped into the machine and started to set everything as he wanted it to be. He placed the duffle on top of the seat and started messing with the dials and switches. Once done he re-strapped the duffle bag to him as tightly as it would go and sat down, quietly counting. At twenty he blew up the first of the bombs he had set up – on the _other side_ of the building.

He started over, counted to twenty, and then blew up another side of the building. And then did it again to the other side.

He smiled and congratulated himself on the, rather genius in his opinion, plan.

"One…. Two…. Three…."

It was his specialty, breaking people without ever actually coming in contact with them.

"Six…. Seven…. Eight…."

He'd make them panic over the first explosion, feel dread over the second, and by the third blew they'd realize what was going on and race over to his position.

"Eleven…. Twelve…. Thirteen…."

Everywhere he had planted his bombs had been in a major lab; nearly everyone in this building was a scientist of some kind. Scientists who lived only to do what they're told, who started working here young only to grow into the seventies without ever getting any progress done with the experiments.

"Eighteen…. Nineteen…."

Daryl smiled.

"Twenty."

And he blew up the room.

 _ **~LINEBREAK~**_

A small baby was asleep in a crib, peacefully dreaming. Its parents were asleep as well – one in the master bedroom and the other snoring at the kitchen table. So there was no one to see the infant's body lock up and start to thrash in place, almost as if it was having a seizure.

Nor was there anyone there to see a rust red bag appear in the corner of the room.

Nobody saw black sludge force itself out of the infant's mouth and run down its cheeks.

They didn't see the way the infant boy's eyes go wide and his mouth open into a silent wail or how his magic – young and weak as it was – go wild around the child trying to save it's host.

Though the mother, who was sleeping in the bedroom till then, heard the items in the room slam into the walls and she launched towards the little boy's room. The second her hand touch the door everything stopped. The baby asleep, with black sludge on his face and in the crib, items laying everywhere around the room.

She screamed, _"Harry!"_


End file.
